Across The Universe
by SFGrl
Summary: A story about hitting rock bottom. Some sexual content in Chapter Five only. complete
1. Across The Universe

_Across the Universe_

2002

Even if I told you how it happened, and why it happened, you would have trouble believing it. You would have trouble believing it, because someone like me isn't supposed to do stuff like this.  
Someone like me. I was supposed to live out my life, droning and decomposing under the florescent bulbs of a stuffy, nondescript office. But sometimes things don't happen the way they are supposed to. Sometimes, one event can change everything. That one event, for me, happened two years ago.

I was living in the Village, in a nice apartment with a very cool roommate. My girlfriend lived across the hall. We had been friends for years, then started dating each other about a year prior. I think it was safe to say that Monica was the love of my life. I never told her that, of course, because I am a giant prick who can't commit.  
She got pregnant, and I freaked out on her. I left the apartment, and didn't come back for three days. Monica was beyond pissed. She told me that I had to decide what my priorities were, or else.

Well, I sat on it, for about a month. I told her I needed time, and she yelled, and cried, and carried on, and she said that I didn't love her. But I did love her. And had I known then, what I know now, I would have made that committment. See, I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always worthless. I just thought I was. And that's what scared me about committing to Monica. I was afraid that she would eventually see just how worthless I was. In the end, none of my committment issues mattered. I still let her down.

"Monica, we need to talk about what's happening between us."

"It doesn't matter, Chandler," Monica said sadly, and sunk down onto the sofa as if all of the life had been sucked from her.

"Mon, I want to be here for you, and for the baby...and I think I can do it if--"

"There is no baby, Chandler." Monica's voice was so small, it was barely audible.

"What?"

"There is no baby. I lost it. It's gone. You have nothing more to worry about."

"Mon, what can I do? Please tell me what I can do."

"You've done enough," Monica said bitterly, before racing to her bedroom to lock out the world.

Needless to say, I was shocked by Monica's statement. I never thought she'd just out-and-out blame me for the miscarriage. But she did. And for the next few days, I sat in my apartment, consumed with grief and guilt over the pain I caused Monica. I loved her, yet I'd hurt her, in the worst way. I wanted to die. In the end, I figured the best thing for me to do would be to leave.  
So I did. I moved into a small studio across town. But it may as well have been across the universe. It was world's away from my old life.  
A month later, I was fired from my job, which wasn't surprising, considering that I never fucking went anymore, and when I did, I'd just stare at the ceiling and drool all over myself. I began to find it increasingly difficult to get out of bed before noon, so I decided to take a job waiting tables in some dive. I waited tables in college, it was no big deal. Plus I still had a hefty savings, and a bunch of inheritence money from my Aunt Jackie, who was stinking rich and hated everybody in our family, but felt sorry for me because my parents were so fucked up.

So I would spend most of my nights out at bars, drinking like a fish until dawn, and then I would go into work at six pm, hungover. I'd get off work at midnight, and do it all over again. One night, I was sitting in the bar, sucking down my fifth Jack and Coke, when I met Chris. Chris was a total fucking nut. We hit it off right away, since I was now at a point in my life when I just didn't give a shit anymore. Chris and I started hanging out all the time, and he was the one who introduced me to the world of ecstacy.

It was a Wednesday night, I remember that it was a Wednesday because I didn't have to work the next day, and I never worked on Thursdays. Anyway, Chris and I were sitting in his living room, smoking and drinking. I mentioned how alcohol wasn't numbing my pain and guilt for shit, and so he suggested I try something stronger.

"Trust me, Chandler, a little bit of this, and you won't feel a thing."

"What is it?"

"Don't ask, just do."

It dissolved in my mouth, and for a minute, I thought nothing had really happened. Then it hit me. And everything changed. Chris was right. After that night, I spent more time numbing the pain than doing anything else. It was amazing how quickly I was hooked.

Eventually, I stopped going to work altogether, and devoted all my free time to finding new and exciting ways to dull the pain of losing everything I valued. It didn't matter if it was heroin or paint thinner--I just didn't want to feel anymore. And then, about a year ago, I finally got to the point where I wasn't feeling a thing. I was finally at the point where I couldn't recognize the person I used to be. I had crossed over into some other weird-ass universe, where up was down and left was right and I didn't give a fuck about myself or anybody else.  
And had you known me before all of this, you would have been shocked to see how quickly and completely I had changed. My old roommate, and Monica's older brother got a taste of it, a few months ago. I was sitting in a coffee shop near my apartment, nursing yet another hangover, when they walked in.

"This place looks okay...c'mon Ross, I really gotta go!" Joey was doing the universal 'pee dance' in the doorway of the small, dark coffee shop.

"Fine, but hurry up," Ross relented, and walked into the shop warily. He quickly scanned the shop, and stopped cold when his eyed fell onto a familiar face.

"Ch-Chandler?"

"Ross--what the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh--I was--I mean--what the hell happened to you man?"

"What?"

"You look--awful." Ross stood there, as he quite obviously battled his conflicting emotions. While it was clear that he was angry with me for hurting Monica and leaving, my gaunt appearance obviously disturbed him.

"Chandler?" Joey's voice came up suddenly.

"Hey, Joe."

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Chandler, Monica is really worried about you. She feels horrible, and she really wants to talk to you."

"Well, I don't really think that's a good idea."

"What? Why not?"

"Ross, don't you think I've fucked up your sister's life enough? Admit it, you'd be much happier if you never had to see me again."

"That is not true."

"Well, whatever, it doesn't matter now, anyway. I gotta go. See ya."

I left as quickly as I could. All I could think about, from the moment I saw Ross, was that I needed a hit. I raced home, and filled myself with whatever I could find.

I was so wrapped up in my own little universe, I didn't notice that I was being followed.

I was there the day Chandler left. I was sitting in my sister's apartment, watching helplessly as she beat herself up over it. She cried for days. Nothing I said, nothing Rachel, or Phoebe said, made her feel better.  
None of us saw Joey for days afterward. He was angry, that much was obvious. But he was too nice of a person to take out his anger on Monica, who was a wreck. So he kept his distance. I approached him a few days after Chandler left, and proposed that he and I try to find Chandler, and bring him home.

"That's a good idea, Ross."

"Yeah, well, we have to do something. Everyone's a wreck. You, Mon...Rachel can't sleep because Monica's always crying at night...we just need to do something."

"You're right. We can find him...We've gotta find him!"

We searched. We searched for weeks. But we couldn't find him. His parents hadn't heard from him. He was fired from his job, and they had no idea where he'd gone. It was like he'd fallen off the face of the Earth.  
Then, a few months ago, Joey and I went to see an acting friend of his, in a sketchy neighborhood on the other end of town. We stopped in an old coffee shop, and were shocked to find Chandler...or at least someone who resembled him. He was a mere shadow of the man he was, thin and gaunt, pale and shaky. It was obvious that he had hit bottom. He tried to get away from us, but we followed him to the rat-infested room he called home, and cornered him into going to see Monica.

"Why are you guys doing this? Why do you even give a shit?"

"We're your friends, Chandler, we want you to come home."

"After what I've done? Why?"

"What do you mean, after what you've done?"

"Didn't Monica tell you? Tell you how I freaked out about the baby? How I stressed her out and caused her to lose it? How I hurt her when I promised I wouldn't?"

"Yes, Chandler. She told us you freaked. But the miscarriage wasn't your fault. It would have happened, no matter what you'd done, or she'd done."

"I gotta go to the bathroom."

Chandler was gone for twenty minutes. Joey finally forced the bathroom door open, only to find Chander sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, and surrounded by bottles of alcohol and drug paraphernalia. It was clear to me that he was in no condition to see Monica, or anyone else, for that matter.

Joey and I checked Chandler into a rehab facility, but we never told the others that we'd even seen him. I figure he'll tell the others himself, in time. Joey went to visit him last month, but Chandler wouldn't talk to him. I tried to explain to Joey that he's in a lot of pain, and he's probably embarassed, and that he needs to remember that we probably saved Chandler's life. I hope that, in time, Chandler will forgive us.

So, now you know how I got here. I leave in a few days, and I have to say, I'm scared to death. I'm scared to go back to my friends, and I'm scared that they'll never look at me the same. I'm afraid they'll hate me for falling. Or hate me for walking away. I have never felt so vulnerable, yet I've never felt more alive.

It's a scary thing.

_Across the Universe_ (McCartney/Lennon)

_Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,  
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe  
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,  
Possessing and caressing me.  
Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world,  
Nothing's gonna change my world._

_Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,  
That call me on and on across the universe,  
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box they  
Tumble blindly as they make their way  
Across the universe  
Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world,  
Nothing's gonna change my world._

_Sounds of laughter shades of earth are ringing  
Through my open views inviting and inciting me  
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a  
million suns, it calls me on and on  
Across the universe  
Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world,  
Nothing's gonna change my world._


	2. Walking After You

~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Two*  
"Walking After You"  
  
The first day I walked out of the facility, I found myself fighting the overwhelming urge to run back behind the iron gates, and scream "I'm not ready! I can't handle this!!" I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to die.  
I thought that my first few days of rehab were bad. But they were nothing compared to this. Back then, I was in unbearable, unimaginable, physical pain. My brain was in overdrive one minute, and would shut down completely the next. My skin felt like it was being torn off of my body. And everything and everyone around me was a fucking demon from hell, trying to rip out my soul.  
  
Now, I stood out in the open air, drug and alcohol free for the first time in nearly two years.   
  
And I was in Hell.  
  
*  
  
I walked into my apartment, and was surprised to see that my stuff was still there. My Mom had come by once, when I was in the facility, to tell me that she was paying my rent, but that as soon as I was out, I had to move. She was giving me two weeks to get a new place. Two fucking weeks. In New York City. That's funny.  
I stood in the middle of my place, and noticed, for the first time, that it was completely fucking thrashed. There were empty bottles all over the place, dirty clothes and dished lining the sticky, smelly floor, and a dried out bong in the corner of the room. I was shocked, truely amazed, that my Mom had not even taken the time to clear out the drug paraphenalia. I smiled half-heartedly, and went to my nightstand, and pulled open the drawer. Inside, much to my saddened amazement, there was the rest of my heroin, a few syringes, and my Zippo. Un-fucking-believable.  
  
It took every ounce of energy I had not to shoot up right there and then. I should have been proud of myself, but I wasn't. I wasn't proud, because instead of throwing the drugs away, I put them into my secret emergency stash. It was a video cassette case, hidden in one of the milk crates that I had been using as a bookshelf. The video case said, "Chick & Duck Highlights, 1997~by Joey T. and Chandler B." I have no fucking clue what I did with that tape. That makes me sad, now that I can feel again.  
  
*  
  
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was awoken by someone knocking on my front door. I pulled myself up off of my mattress, and that's when it hit me--I was exhausted. I had no idea that clean and sober could be this fucking tiring. I shuffled to the door, and was taken aback, but not shocked, to see Joey and Ross on the other side.  
  
"Hey," was all I could think to say. It's remarkable, really, because I should have been able to at least work out a decent "thank you" or something. I am sure I'd be dead right now if it weren't for these guys. But a part of me wanted them to leave me the hell alone. A part of me wanted them to stay the fuck out of my life, and let me deteriorate in peace. I really didn't think I was worth all this trouble.  
  
***~***  
  
"Hey," Chandler said, as he opened the door. I really didn't know what to say to that. It was a pretty neutral greeting, and I couldn't figure out if he was still mad at us or not. We all just kind of stood there, for a really long time. The Ross decided to say something.  
  
"Can we talk to you for a minute, man?"  
  
"Sure, yeah, uh, sorry. Come in." Chandler gestured for us to come in, and that was when it hit me. There was no place to sit in his place. His mattress was on the floor, and, other than a nightstand, which looked really weird next to one mattress, and a few milk crates full of books, he had no furniture. Of course, he didn't take anything when he left our place. He took some clothes, and a few other things, but he left so fast...  
  
"How are you feeling?" The conversation was forced, and very strained. Ross was trying to make the best of a horrible situation.  
  
"Okay. Weird. A little lost," Chandler laughed, and it was the first time I'd seen his smile in years. It was an uncomfortable smile, but I was willing to take what I could get. Before he left, I had had a tough time remembering what Chandler looked like when he *wasn't* smiling. Now, I struggled to recall the man that used to be my best friend. I wanted to cry, right there and then, cause I knew that the man I knew--was dead.  
  
"Well, uh, your Mom called me, and said that you had to move out of here, so, uh, we have a place for you."  
  
"Ross--"  
  
"Before you say anything, it was not my idea. And you'll have to pay rent...it's not a hand out. I just...I know how hard it is to find a place in this city. And you'll be subletting, so the rent isn't that bad."  
  
"Subletting?"  
  
"Yeah. It's uh, it's Ugly Naked Guy's place. He's subletting, and we thought that--"  
  
"You'd be able to keep an eye on me," Chandler said sadly. It's weird, I thought he'd be mad. But he looked so sad. Like he'd lost something. Maybe he did. Maybe he would never be able to get back what he lost, and maybe he's realized it.  
  
"No, Chandler. Well, kind of. We want you back in our lives. *All* of us."  
  
"Did you tell Monica? About me?" The absolute sadness and hopelessness in Chandler's voice was almost too much to bear. I just wanted to hug him, but he was still so thin...I didn't want to hurt him.  
I looked at Ross, who was busy contemplating what to tell Chandler. In the end, he opted for the Truth.  
  
"Yes, I told her. They all know. And they all want to help you...come back."  
  
I was shocked that Ross told Chandler. And that he took full responsibility for something I had done.  
  
~*~  
  
(15 months earlier)  
  
"C'mon Joey, just come out with us," Phoebe was pleading, while the others stood behind her, near the door.  
  
"I wanna sit in my chair," I said stubbornly.  
  
"I...I can stay home, if it'll make it easier," Monica said quietly. The others shook their heads, and disagreed fiercely with the idea. That pissed me off, so I stood up, and confronted Monica.  
  
"You know, Monica, you aren't the only one hurting from all this. You have no idea...no idea what--"  
  
"Joey, don't," Ross warned, but I was determined to tell them. They needed to know, just how awful it had been for me and Ross.  
  
"Don't what, Ross? Don't tell them, that we saw Chandler a couple months ago? That he was so fucked up, that he barely recognized us? That we found him on the bathroom floor of that SHITHOLE he calls an apartment, with a needle in his arm? And that we put him in rehab, knowing that he'd hate us both for the rest of his life? We should have told them. We should have told them a long time ago, because they deserve to know. *She* deserves to know what he's done to himself!!"  
  
I was out of control. All of the anger that I had felt toward Monica exploded in one moment. I left the apartment, and four speechless friends behind. I left Ross to clean up the mess I'd made.  
  
***~***  
  
Ross had asked me if I wanted to go with them to visit Chandler, now that he was out of rehab. But I couldn't. I knew I wasn't ready to face Chandler. The weight of responsibility and guilt is heavy on my shoulders, and I feel it escalate every time Joey looks at me. He is so protective of his best friend, almost to a fault. But I don't blame him for hating me. Phoebe hates me too, a little, I think. She will talk to me, but it isn't the same. I can see it in her eyes. She doesn't trust me anymore.  
  
Rachel has stuck by me the way that Joey has stuck by Chandler. The night Joey told us about Chandler, I felt like my entire world, fragile as it had been before, collapse completely. Rachel held me, all night, as I cried. I have never felt so horrible, so guilty, so...sad. I wanted to kill myself, it was honestly that bad. I managed to pull myself together enough to eventually go back to work, but my life since that night has never been the same. It never will be the same. I live in a tunnel, where I am only able to see what I need to see. If I strain to see more, the pain will overtake me, and I will sink into oblivion.  
  
I wonder if this is the way Chandler felt, before he fell.  
  
~*~  
  
Walking After You   
(The Foo Fighters)  
  
Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds   
Dreaming aloud   
Things just won't do without you, matter of fact   
I'm on your back, I'm on your back, I'm on your back   
  
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
  
If you'd accept surrender, I'll give up some more   
Weren't you adored   
I cannot be without you, matter of fact   
I'm on your back, I'm on your back, I'm on your back   
  
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
  
Another heart is cracked in two, I'm on your back   
  
I cannot be without you, matter of fact   
I'm on your back, I'm on your back, I'm on your back   
  
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you   
  
Another heart is cracked in two, I'm on your back 


	3. One Day I'll Fly Away

~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Three*  
"One Day I'll Fly Away"  
  
I know that they want to care. I know that they feel obligated to love me, and to be there for me. We always swore we'd be there for each other, no matter what. So I feel guilty, for despising them, for wanting them out of my life. But they want me to be someone I'm not. They want me to be the person that I was before all of this happened. I can't be that person, not now, not ever.   
  
I moved into Ugly Naked Guy's apartment, because I had NO OTHER FUCKING OPTIONS. I hated the fact that I was so dependent on someone else, and that I lost my independence, when I sold my soul. I can feel them, looking at me, waiting for me to fall again. It's unbelievably stiffling. I can't breathe. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but I can't find my voice.   
  
They have all stopped by, this week, to check up on me. All of them, except Monica. I have yet to see or hear from her. Maybe...maybe she still hates me. I don't blame her, I'm an asshole. I'll be the first to admit that fact. I saw her, yesterday. She was looking out her window...her living room window, into the night sky. My lights were off, so she couldn't see me. It was the first time I'd seen her...really seen her, since that day...the day that changed everything. She is still beautiful...so beautiful it hurts. I still love her...and I always will. And that...that may be what kills me, in the end. My love for her, and my dreams of a life that will never be. A perfect marriage, a family...a house in the suburbs...a dog. It's a beautiful fucking dream, and, up until a couple years ago, I truely believed that it was tangible. That I could have it all...eventually, and that Monica would be by my side. So, why did I freak out about the baby, you ask? A couple years ago, I would have told you that it's because "I'm Chandler, that's what I do!". Now, I'll tell you that it was because I'm a coward. I dream of these things that I want, but the idea that I would be responsible for NOT screwing up some little person's life...scared the living shit out of me. Now, of course, I can't have that dream, and now...I want it more than ever. I have no one to blame for that...no one but myself.   
  
There's a knock at the door, and I filter through my mind, who could possibly be on the other side. Phoebe, maybe, though she was here this morning with "healing teas". Rachel...doubtful...she looks at me like I have the Black Fucking Plague. My Mom would never bother...so it must me Ross or Joey. They like to check up on me daily. And I have yet to see either of them today. I open the door, and my heart actually stops beating.  
  
Monica.  
  
***~***  
  
I wasn't sure he'd even open the door, but when he did, I could see that he was shocked to see me. But I couldn't quite tell...if he was mad at me, or just surprised at my sudden appearance. So I waited for him to say something first.  
  
"Monica?" his voice was ragged, yet soft. I struggled to look up at him, but ended up looking over his shoulder.  
  
"Hi, Chandler. How, um, how are you?"  
  
"Um...okay. Uh, come in, have a seat."  
  
"Okay." Oh, God, I wanted to turn around and run out of that apartment. But I couldn't...I couldn't be that rude. The walls were closing in on me, and I could feel sweat forming on my brow. I sat down, and I felt as though I was sinking into oblivion.  
  
"How are you...Monica?"  
  
"Okay." Uh, I just needed to get it over with. I came to apologize, and that was it. "Chandler--" Oh, don't look at me...don't look at me while I do this. I am no good at this kind of stuff.  
  
"Monica, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Look, Chandler, I know you probably hate me, and I--"  
  
"Why would I hate you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why would I hate you?"  
  
"Because...I mean, don't you blame me for all of this?"  
  
"What? Why would I blame you?"  
  
He doesn't blame me? I don't understand. "But Joey...Phoebe....they all blame me..."  
  
"They do? Well, I'll talk to them...I had no idea, really."  
  
"Chandler...why don't you blame me?"  
  
"Why would I? I did this to myself, Monica."  
  
I don't understand...he doesn't blame me. I've been blaming myself for so long...I don't understand where he is coming from. He crouched down in front of me, and took my hands in his. Now I really wanted to run.  
  
***~***  
  
Why does she think I blame her? I'm the one who did all of this. I fucking did it again. I ruined her life, again. I take her hands, and she looks like she is going to throw up. I wonder, do I repulse her that much? She is staring at my arm, and I feel all of the life...what I had left of it...being sucked out of me. I pull away, and yank my shirt sleeve down (I only wear long sleeved shirts now). I want to make her see that I never wanted to hurt her, but she is hurting me, with the way she's looking at me. She is hurting me with her silence, with her pain. It was then that I realized I needed to get away from here. Away from this life...a past that held broken dreams and burned friendships. A life that was supposed to be perfect. A love that was supposed to last forever. I pissed it all away.  
  
"I'm sorry I hurt you, Monica, " I say to her, though I can no longer look at her. I stare up at the apartment that I used to know so well, and I see Rachel, walking past the window, talking on the telephone. What I wouldn't give to have that life back. I turn from the window, and I see that Monica is looking at her feet.  
  
"You are not to blame for any of this, and I will tell the others that. You did nothing wrong. You lost a baby, Monica...our baby. And I was the one that ran away. You did nothing wrong."  
  
"I should have never blamed you for the miscarriage," she whispered this, after a painfully long silence.  
  
"We can't change the past...we...everything has changed."  
  
She looks at me, and she's crying, and all I can think about is how much I want a hit. And I know that it will always be this way. So I do the best thing I can do for the woman I destroyed.  
  
"Monica, you need to leave."  
  
  
  
  
  
"One Day I'll Fly Away" ('Moulin Rouge' version)  
(Will Jennings & Joe Sample)  
  
I follow the night  
Can't stand the light  
When will I begin...to live again?  
One day I'll fly away  
Leave all this to yesterday  
What more could your love do for me?  
When will love be through with me?  
Why live life from dream to dream?  
And dread the day, when dreaming ends.  
One day I'll fly away  
Leave all this to yesterday  
Why live life from dream to dream?  
And dread the day when dreaming ends.  
One day I'll fly away  
Fly, fly away. 


	4. I'm Happy Just To Dance With You

AN: I know that this is a very depressing series, but I promise, this one is a bit better. Also, for those of you waiting on my other series', including my Moulin Rouge one...well, my disc got destroyed, and so it'll be a bit longer. Sorry bout that.  
  
~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Four*  
"I'm Happy Just To Dance With You"  
  
  
I didn't understand. I didn't understand why he had to push me away. He practially threw me out of his apartment, almost angry with me for trying to resist. I wanted to talk more, I wanted to understand why he never blamed me, and what he was thinking about now, but he said it would be best if we not see each other again. He said it was for the best, and I just didn't understand. So I screamed at him, told him he was a selfish bastard, and stormed out. I cried. All night, I cried, and then it came to me. I finally saw what he saw, and it elated me, and terrified me all at once.  
  
He loves me.  
  
I never saw it before, but now, in the light of a new day, it is crystal clear. He is pushing me away, because he thinks he'll hurt me again. I want to cry...again. I began to think back, to everything he had said. I thought about the day he left, and now I see. Now I see that he has blamed only himself for my pain...and for his.   
  
He loves me.  
  
It's always been in his nature, really. He's always been unselfish, giving, kind. When he returned, everyone was so convinced that the Chandler we all knew was dead, and that he was replaced by a bitter, drug-taking, chain smoking, cursing, darker version of himself. But none of us bothered to try and peel away the layers, to see that the old addage holds true--you can't judge a book by it's cover. Chandler is deathly thin and pale, his eyes have sunken in, and the black circles that line them are seemingly permanant fixtures on his face. Ironically, his eyes have never been so blue. We all see a drug addict, and nothing more. That is our fault. And his curse. Last night I saw a glimpse of the Chandler I used to know, and I didn't even know it. I'm so afraid that I have hurt him again, that the Chandler that was struggling to be heard has been buried back into the darkness of his soul. I wish, I wish more than anything, that I could take it all back, and that I could make him see that no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, I love him. I'll always love him. And I know. I know now what I refused to see before, what I longed to see, but never really bothered to look for.  
  
He loves me.  
  
***~***  
  
I had a dream last night. I was standing on a mountain, and I was looking out over the horizon. Monica was with me, and she was telling me something, but for some reason I couldn't understand what she was saying. She looked up at me, and when I said nothing, she began to cry. Suddenly, the mountain crumbled, and I felt myself falling toward the Earth. I looked up, and saw that Monica had managed to grab onto a ledge, and was pulling herself up to safety. I continued to fall, for what felt like an eternity. Monica looked down at me, and she said I was selfish for not taking her with me. I wanted to tell her that she was safe, and I was about to die, but my mouth refused to open. I woke up a moment before I hit the ground, sweating and screaming Monica's name.  
  
Monica is mad at me. If she didn't hate me before, she does now. But it's for the best. I can feel myself sliding back into the dark place. I don't want to drag her down. I wish she could understand that.   
  
I am having luch with Joey and Phoebe in a few minutes. I need them to understand what really happened, because when I leave again, I want them to be there for Monica.   
  
I'm leaving, again. As soon as I can, I am going to leave this city, and this life, behind. I've hurt too many people, and the temptation to start using again is just too strong. I don't know where I'm going yet. I was thinking maybe California. Or maybe Hawaii. I could learn to surf. Though I'd probably drown.  
  
The door. Joey and Phoebe are actually on time. I open the door, and I am, once again, shocked to see Monica on the other side.  
  
"Monica...what are you doing here?"  
  
"We need to talk. About what happened last night. I know, Chandler. I know why you did what you did."  
  
What the hell is she talking about?  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Chandler...I don't want you to shut me out. And I know you want us to leave you alone, but we can't. We can't just let you slip away again. And I know, Chandler. I know that you love me."  
  
What? How the...I am going to fucking kill Joey. Wait, I told that to Joey years ago...how long has she known?  
  
"Wh-what?"  
  
"I know. That's why you kicked me out last night. You're afraid you'll hurt me, but I am here to tell you that I won't let you. I won't let you hurt me. I love you, Chandler, and I want to be here for you. Please let me back in."  
  
Where the fuck is all of this coming from? Last night I was a selfish bastard who didn't deserve one friend, let alone five. Now everyone fucking loves me. I am so confused.  
  
"Monica, I...you have no idea what you are up against here." She's gotta see. This is a huge mistake.  
  
"I know, Chandler. I know that I almost lost you once, because I let you leave. I let you go, and I never thought that..."  
  
Oh, shit, she's crying. I hate it when she cries. It breaks my heart. I hand her a tissue, and she continues.  
  
"I never thought I'd get another chance. We both have a lot of things that we need to work out, but if we help each other--"  
  
"Monica, I don't think this is a good idea. You have no idea how bad it can get."  
  
"I'm willing to try, Chandler. I love you enough to want to at least try."  
  
She *had* to fucking say that, didn't she? Now, if I say no, I'm the asshole--again. She's gonna end up hating me anyway, right? Shit.  
  
"Okay, Monica. We'll see what happens, okay?"  
  
She smiles, and the room lights up. She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, then leaves me alone with my thoughts. I still have doubts, but I am also reeling from her touch. I am feeling something that I haven't felt in a very long time.  
  
Hope.  
  
  
I'm Happy Just To Dance With You  
( J. Lennon, P. McCartney )  
  
I don't wanna kiss or hold your hand,  
If it's funny try an' understand,  
There is really nothing else I'd rather do,  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you.  
  
I don't need to hug or hold you tight,  
I just wanna dance with you all night,  
In this world there's nothing I would rather do,  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you.  
  
Just to dance with you is ev'rything I need.  
Before this dance is through I think I'll love you too,  
I'm so happy when you dance with me.  
  
I'm somebody tries to take my place,  
Let's pretend we just can't see his face,  
In this world there's nothing I would rather do,  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you.  
  
Just to dance with you is ev'rything I need.  
Before this dance is through I think I'll love you too,  
I'm so happy when you dance with me.  
  
I'm somebody tries to take my place,  
Let's pretend we just can't see his face,  
In this world there's nothing I would rather do,  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you.  
  
Oh, oh,  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you.  
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. 


	5. Wicked Game

AN: This particular chapter contains some sexual content.   
  
~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Five*  
"Wicked Game"  
  
It's been three weeks since I left the facility. Each day gets just a little bit easier. Monica and I are slowly getting to a point where we no longer blame ourselves, or each other, for past sins. But it's still hard. Harder than I ever imagined it would be. I'm on my way to her apartment, for dinner. It scares me sometimes, this intensity. I love her so much, but sometimes I feel like...she would be so much better off without me.  
  
*  
  
She opens the door, and my breath catches in my throat. She is simply stunning. I take in her beauty, and it gives me strength. She gives me strength. She's helped me see that I can beat this, that I can conquer my demons, and that I can live...and love, again. She invites me in, and I sit down, in an apartment that I once knew as well as my own. She offers me a drink, and I nod robotically, still in awe of her, and her kindness, her beauty, her love. I want this to work, and I want us to be together. She catches me staring at her, and she blushes. My cheeks flush too, and for a moment, we are silent.  
  
***~***  
  
I can barely eat, I am so nervous. I don't know why. Maybe it's the way Chandler is looking at me. It's so intense, I feel like crying. I play with my food, until I notice that he isn't eating either. I suggest that we take our drinks to the sofa, and he agrees.  
  
He sets his soda down on a coaster, and I smile, happy that he remembers my neurotic quirks. He turns to look at me, and it is then that I realize why I've been so nervous all evening. Now I know.  
  
In a blind flash, I feel his lips on mine, and I sink into his warmth. I feel like I am drunk, yet I know that neither of us has had any alcohol. None of us keep alcohol in our apartments anymore. It was our unspoken agreement, when Chandler returned. Chandler pulls me closer, and my thoughts return to the present. He slips his tongue into my mouth, and I feel my heart beating so fast, I think it's going to explode. My hands move up to his hair, and his lips move to my neck. I know that there is no turning back tonight.  
  
***~***  
  
She feels so soft, and smells like raspberries. I take in every sensation, as though it was the first time I'd ever touched her. In a way, it is. I am a different person today. I am more fragile, yet I am stronger. I let my hands roam her shaking body, and I hear her moan my name. And it fills me with an indescribable joy. I tug at her shirt, and know that there is no turning back.  
  
She pulls at my shirt, and I sit up, and pull it off. It was then that we are both reminded that everything is different. She is looking at me, and I've never felt so self conscious in my life. I want to scream, but I am terrified.  
  
***~***  
  
He pulls off his shirt, and everything comes flooding back to me. His torso has all kinds of strange scars, and track marks line his arms. I find myself staring, and I know that he is uncomfortable. I have to do, or say something, but I'm not sure that anything I say would suffice. I can feel him start to tense up, and I'm afraid that he's going to leave. I begin to run my fingers lightly over his scars, then brush them with my lips. I need him to know that he is still beautiful to me. He seems to relax a bit, but I can tell he is still unsure. I pull off my shirt and bra, and move back up to his mouth. He relaxes into my kiss, and I pull him closer, hoping that he will understand my initial hesitation, and my eventual surrender. He pushes me down onto the sofa, and lays on top of me. The first thing that I think is that he is so much lighter than he used to be. I scold myself for thinking that, and try to turn my attention completely to him. His hands move up my thigh, and suddenly, I don't have to concentrate as hard to think of him, and him alone.  
  
***~***  
  
My heart is thumping out of my chest, as I slide inside of her for the first time. She moans, and pulls me close to her chest. We find a rhythm, and soon, nothing else matters. She opens her eyes, and watches me watch her. We connect, on the most primal level. The blood rushes from my head, and I push myself, and her, to the limit. She wrigles underneath me, and screams my name. I feel my own release, and she gasps, and pushes me away. I pull out of her, and sit back, trying to decypher her expression as I come down from my first natural high in years. She looks terrified. My heart begins to slow, and the blood rushes back to my head, and I realize what she is thinking. And it breaks my heart. She looks scared, and worried. And I know that there is nothing I can say. She knows that I know, and she tries to apologize.  
  
"It's just...Chandler, have you been tested?"  
  
I can't speak. I shake my head, and I know she is right. We were careless.  
  
"We should have remembered a condom. How could I have been so stupid?" she is seemingly talking to herself.  
  
"Funny, I thought you'd at least wait until morning to regret your actions," I say bitterly, angry more at myself for not remembering a condom. Angry because I have hurt her again.  
  
"That's not what I meant, Chandler. We have to face the fact that you were a drug addict, and that makes you a risk. I don't know anything about what you did while you were away. Maybe if you'd talk to me about it--"  
  
"You're right, Monica, I should be telling you all about my 'glory days', not fucking you on your couch," I feel my anger rising, and I gather my clothes, and dress as fast as I can. I knew this would all blow up in my face, I knew that it would all end badly.  
  
"Do not talk to me that way. You know I don't like--"  
  
"YOU don't like the person I've become. And you just realized that fucking me repulses you. I warned you , Monica, I warned you that this would end badly. But you were so fucking convinced that you could save me, and fix me. This isn't a Goddamned fairy tale, Monica, you don't get your happy ending. Not with me."  
  
"For once, Chandler, I think you're right," Monica sobbed, and ran into her bedroom, leaving me with an eerie sense of deja vu. I leave Monica's apartment, and run to my own.   
  
*  
  
As soon as I am inside my apartment, I fall apart. Everything I feared has come to pass. I know that Monica is right, and I know that I should have never had sex with her. What if I do have something? What if I give it Monica? The prospect is too much for me to bear. I dig through my kitchen cabinets, and pull out a bottle of whiskey. I down half the bottle, and still, I feel my new world collapsing around me. They are all going to hate me, for hurting her again. And they should. I can't believe I did something so stupid. Again. It's over, I've lost everything. I blew it with Monica, and as soon as Ross finds out, I'll have to deal with him and the others. But none of that matters, because the pain I feel is for Monica. She put so much hope into me, and she even made me believe that it would all be okay. But she was wrong. And now she's crying, and I've lost her again. I drop my whiskey bottle, and open my entertainment unit. I pull out every video cassette, until I find what I'm looking for.  
  
"Chick & Duck Highlights, 1997~by Joey T. and Chandler B."  
  
I numb my pain the only way I know how.  
  
***~***  
  
Chandler is late for lunch. It's been an hour, and I know he's not coming. I head over to his place, to see where he is. I knock, but there's no answer. I use my key, and unlock the door. The first thing I see is a cassette case, sitting on the coffee table. As I make my way into the room, I see him, sprawled out onto the floor, surrounded by his precious drugs. I feel anger rising up inside of me, and I want to smack Chandler. I want him to see just how stupid he's being. He's throwing everything away. I sit down next to him, and wait for him to wake up.  
  
***~***  
  
I open my eyes, and immediately, I know that something is wrong. I curse myself, for falling into the arms of my weakness. I struggle to sit up, and try to shake off the residual effects of my latest escape into hell.  
  
"What did you do with the tape?" Joey's voice startles me, and I look up, only to find him sitting calmly in a chair, my cassette case in his hand. I focus on his question, while staring at the case. I look at him again, and I can see his sadness. I suddenly feel overwhelmingly guilty.  
  
"I--I don't know," I whisper, and hang my head, like a child being scolded.  
  
"We're going to search this whole place, until we find every ounce of this shit," Joey's voice is still eerily calm, "But first, you are going to get rid of what is left here," he tosses me a brown vial, and walks toward the bathroom.  
  
I stand up slowly, and look up at Monica's apartment. It's dark, and seemingly empty. Sighing heavily, I follow Joey into the bathroom, vial in hand.  
  
This time, I know that they aren't going to let me off so easily.  
  
  
"Wicked Game"  
(Chris Isaak)  
  
The world was on fire  
No one could save me but you.  
Strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you  
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you  
  
No, I don't want to fall in love  
[This world is only gonna break your heart]  
No, I don't want to fall in love  
[This world is only gonna break your heart]  
With you  
With you  
  
  
What a wicked game you play  
To make me feel this way  
What a wicked thing to do  
To let me dream of you  
What a wicked thing to say  
You never felt this way  
What a wicked thing to do  
To make me dream of you  
And I don't wanna fall in love  
[This world is only gonna break your heart]  
And I don't want to fall in love  
[This world is only gonna break your heart]  
  
  
World was on fire  
No one could save me but you  
Strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you  
I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you  
  
  
No I don't wanna fall in love  
No I don't wanna fall in love  
With you  
With you  
  
  
Nobody loves no one 


	6. Desperado

~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Six*  
"Desperado"  
  
I wake up, sweating, and in pain. My stomach has cramped up, and my head is swimming. I cry out into the darkness, and silence is the only reply. I hate this, but I know that it is my punishment, and that if my punishment really were a just one, I'd die here tonight. I want to die. They must have known that, because, as I scan the room for sharp objects, I see that the entire room has been cleared out. When did they do this? My head is foggy, and the pain worsens, as I rise from my bed, and make my way across the darkened room. I pull on the door, but it has been locked from the outside. I bang on it with my fist, more out of frusteration than anything else. Deflated, I shuffle back to bed, and lay atop my dark grey sheets, now damp from sweat. Oh, God, kill me now. Facing the light of day is a fate worse than the death that looms.  
  
***~***  
  
I must have dozed off, because the faint sound of Chandler crying out in pain caused me to jump. It's killing me that he is hurting so badly, but I know that this is the only way to handle this. He refused to go back to rehab. After spending most of the day cleaning out his apartment, and flushing what was left of his stash, I told him that if he wasn't going to rehab, then he was going to have to deal with this my way. Too exhausted and sick to argue, he fell asleep, and I made a few calls.  
  
I called Ross, and explained the situation. He, in turn, called the girls, and the five of us met at the coffee shop to talk about what to do next. Monica was a wreck, and it took us a good 45 minutes just to get through to her. We finally got the story out of her, and, after a lot of convincing, she agreed that no matter what had happened, the best thing she could do for Chandler now was to get him through the next 24 hours.  
  
So, here I am. Keeping watch on Chandler for another hour, until Rachel comes over to relieve me. If you would have told me three years ago, hell a year ago, that I'd be doing this, watching over my best friend, making sure he didn't fall again, making sure he didn't kill himself...I would have told you to go to hell.  
  
***~***  
  
Dawn is breaking over the city. I've never been so exhausted in my life. I have spent the past 24 hours going over everything that happened between me and Chandler. His outburst was strange, even for him. I try to think about it from his perspective...he was scared, and insecure about all of this to begin with. Maybe I pushed him too far, to fast. We haven't been that intimate in almost three years. I talked to the others, and they all agreed that it was probably too intense for Chandler to handle. I realize that I have been so blinded by my hope...hope that I could resurrect the Chandler from long ago, that I failed to see that the Chandler that is in the here and now is the only one that exists. This man is brooding, moody, at times irrational, and very, very fragile. Am I responsible for sending him back down his path of destruction? Is it possible that my presence in his life will be the catalyst for his ultimate demise? My own insecurities, reflected in his eyes, were increased tenfold in his mind.   
  
But what if he is sick? He's still so thin, and...and it pains me to think these things, but it is a valid concern I think. What if he has HIV? I don't know much of anything about those lost years. I doubt he even remembers much. I don't want to believe that it could happen, but then I never thought that any of this could happen.  
  
What happened to our perfect little universe?  
  
***~***  
  
I am feeling a bit better, in the light of day. And Joey and Ross have dragged me down to a clinic to be tested. Ross is furious, but is trying to hide it. He's horrible at hiding his true feelings...I can't believe it took Rachel so fucking long to figure him out.  
I'm nervous. I am so nervous that I can't see straight. If I test positive, for anything, then Monica is at risk. That will kill me. They took blood and urine, then came back to do more tests...just to be sure, they said. They brought in a different doctor, and he and a few others were all huddled together, talking quietly about my "results". I now fear the worst. My stomach is in knots, and I feel dizzy. If I'm positive...what do I tell Monica? Terror...terror is the feeling I have in my gut, in my heart, and in my soul. I am truely terrified...and scared straight.  
The doctor that they brought in is approaching me, and I do not like the look on his face.  
  
"Mr. Bing, you've managed to do quite a bit of damage to yourself," the doctor says, with a sickeningly patronizing tone.  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"Well, the good news is, you tested negative for HIV. So, if you were sharing needles, you must have gotten lucky."  
  
"I don't think I ever--"  
  
"However, it is possible that HIV is in your system. You will need to be checked, every few years, as will anyone you've had unprotected sex with."  
  
"Okay," I manage to say, though I feel like my head is going to explode.  
  
"There is...another problem."  
  
What? Shit. What the fuck did he just say? My ears were ringing, I couldn't hear a damn thing.  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's another problem. Your kidney's are failing. Whether this is a result of your heavy drug abuse isn't clear at this point...it could be any number of things. Does Diabetes run in your family?"  
  
"Huh? I, uh, I don't know." My head is swimming. Am I going to die? What is he telling me? It's ironic, isn't it...the one thing that will make you want to live, is the fucking news that you aren't going to.  
  
"We'll put you an the donor list...and you should start considering the idea of asking relatives...do you have any brothers or sisters?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What about your parents?"  
  
"Not likely," I laugh, the image of my mother agreeing to permanent scarring on her body flashing through my head.  
  
"Well, start thinking about asking people who may be...willing to donate for you."  
  
That's a laughable notion, too. I've already screwed over everyone who ever gave a shit about me....'Hey Joe, I know I've treated you like shit, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind handing over one of your vital organs?' Gimme a fucking break already.  
  
*  
  
"What did they say?" Ross and Joey practially jump down my throat when I come back out into the lobby.  
  
"I tested negative," I say quietly, and continue walking out of the clinic. They are close behind me.  
  
"Is everything okay, then?" Joey still manages to sound innocent as a child sometimes. I can't imagine what all of this has done to his opinion of friendship.  
  
"Not really. But I think we need to find the girls. There's something you all need to know."  
  
Today is the first day of the end of my life.  
  
  
  
"Desperado"  
(The Eagles)  
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?  
You been out ridin' fences for so long now  
Oh, you're a hard one  
I know that you got your reasons  
These things that are pleasin' you  
Can hurt you somehow  
Don' you draw the queen of diamonds, boy  
She'll beat you if she's able  
You know the queen of heats is always your best bet  
Now it seems to me, some fine things  
Have been laid upon your table  
But you only want the ones that you can't get  
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no youger  
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home  
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'  
Your prison is walking through this world all alone  
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?  
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine  
It's hard to tell the night time from the day  
You're loosin' all your highs and lows  
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?  
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?  
Come down from your fences, open the gate  
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you  
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late 


	7. With a Little Help From My Friends

AN: Okay, a couple of quick notes~um, I know these ch. are short(esp this one!), but they all have very distinct themes, that need to be broken up.   
Also, to answer a few questions posed in the reviews and in e.mails...Yes, I am aware that Chandler and Monica "did it" previously...the "first time" was symbolic only. No, I've never had a drug problem...personally, anyway...and finally, thank you for the reviews...I was a little worried about this one. Now go read...and I am gonna go listen to Ewan sing some more...("How wonderful life is, now you're in the woooorld!!!") I love him.  
  
  
~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Seven*  
"With a Little Help From My Friends"  
  
  
They gathered in my apartment, thirty minutes after I got home. They were all anxious to hear what the doctors had said, yet none of them pressured me to tell them individually. I had made it clear that I needed to tell them all together. I'm not sure why I had insisted that I tell the group as a whole. I think it was based on fear. I was afraid to deal with each person, one on one, especially Monica. And I didn't want to have to say it out loud five times. Once was enough.  
  
"What's going on, Chandler?"  
  
"Um, okay, I--" Oh, I hate this. I hate talking to them like this. I used to use humour to hide my pain, but now...I don't find the humour in much of anything anymore. "First I want to say that I'm sorry about...before. But that's not what this is about. I was, uh, tested, and I don't have HIV...but I'll need to get tested every once in a while, just to make sure. So will you, Monica." I couldn't even look at her. I am such a fucking coward.  
  
"So, then, what--" Ross was clearly annoyed with me, and I could see he just wanted me to spit it out and get it over with. But I am pretty sure he's never had to do anything this hard...so he can just kiss my...uh, focus Chandler!  
  
"The doctor seems to think that my kidney's are failing on me...and I need a transplant. But I don't have much family, and so the chances are pretty slim that I'll find a match. So...it doesn't look good." Wow, that was...not that bad, actually. I'd built it up to be this big thing. No one is talking. They are all just staring at me. Did they not understand?   
  
"What do you have to do to find a match?" Joey broke the heavy silence.  
  
"Uh, they have to do a bunch of tests...blood, and...stuff...I guess."  
  
"I wanna do it," Joey said quickly.  
  
"What?"   
  
"I wanna get tested. Maybe I'll be a match!"  
  
"No, Joey, you don't...this will be much, much worse on you than on me...I can't...I can't ask you to do that. I--I just wanted you to know..." There is no way Joey is doing this. I'm not worth it, I'm not worth it, I'm not worth it...  
  
"But if I'm a match, then.."  
  
"Joey, no. I can't risk losing you. You aren't doing it."  
  
"Chandler, you didn't ask. I'm volunteering."  
  
"Me too!" Phoebe piped up.  
  
"Me too," Rachel chimed in.  
  
"Me too," Monica whispered.  
  
"And me," Ross said.  
  
All I could do was shake my head. Why were they doing this? How could they possibly still love me after all that I've done to them? I put my head in my hands, and sighed. Maybe, hopefully, none of them would match.  
  
"After everything I've done...why do you want to help me?" I finally whisper through confused tears.  
  
"What do you mean? Chandler, we're your friends," Joey said it as though it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Thank you." Everything began to come into focus, and I realized that I did have a family, after all.  
  
***  
  
While the others went through the rigerous testing procedure, I was put on dialysis. My first session was terrifying. They put me in this room, with all these other people waiting for kidney's. Some of them were just little kids, no more than nine or ten. They've been waiting for years. Waiting for another child to die. It breaks my heart. Again, I am hit with the overwhelming feeling that I do not deserve this. I do not deserve a second...or rather, third...chance. They put me onto a bed, and hook me up to the machine, through the catheter that was put into my arm two days ago. The process of taking my blood, cleaning it, and putting it back into my body, takes about four hours. By the end, I am so weak and tired, that I can't stand up on my own. Phoebe is there to pick me up in her grandmother's cab. The nurses help her get me into the car, because I can't even make my legs function properly. I've never, ever felt so helpless. My mind flashes back to my first days in the facility, and I feel unbelievably sad. The passenger door closes, and Phoebe gets in on the driver's side. She turns the engine over, and drives out of the clinic parking lot. For the first few minutes of the drive, we are silent.   
  
***~***  
  
I really didn't think Chandler could look any more sickly than he already did. But then I saw him, laying on the bed, recovering from his first session. I wanted to cry, but then I remembered that this was his own fault. I straightened up, and helped get him into my car.  
  
We've been driving for ten minutes, and neither of us has said a thing. I look over at him, and I can tell he wants to sleep, but he is in pain.  
  
"Are you okay, Chandler?"  
  
"Yeah, Pheebs, I'm fine."  
  
Pheebs. He called me Pheebs. He hasn't done that since...well, it's been a long time. I know that he wants to get better, I can see that in his eyes. But he has a lot of work ahead of him. We all do.  
  
"How are things with Monica?" I had to ask.  
  
"Okay. We talked. Well, I talked. I apologized profusely...several times. She just nodded and smiled. Then..."  
  
I knew what had happened. I'd already talked to Monica. But I wanted to hear his side.  
  
"You told her that you love her, but that you couldn't be with her, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah, I did," he whispered, his eyes growing heavy.  
  
"Why? Why did you do that?"  
  
"You know why, Phoebe."  
  
So, we're back to Phoebe...huh.  
  
"I don't know. Can you tell me?"  
  
"Phoebe, you know as well as I do that I am probably not going to make it to Christmas," he stated it, as though it were a fact, not a prediction. I decided to play along with the theory.  
  
"So? Why not make the best of the time you have left with her?"  
  
"I don't want her to be hurt..."  
  
"Chandler, you keep saying that, but you also keep hurting her."  
  
"I know," I could tell by his voice that he was crying. I glanced over, and his tears confirmed my guess.  
  
"But she is willing to love you...just let her."  
  
Chandler simply nodded, and I could tell he was fading. His speech was slurring a bit more with each mile we drove. The forty five minute drive seemed to take hours. There had to be a renal clinic closer to the city.  
  
"Chandler, why did we have to drive all the way out here? Wasn't there a place closer?"  
  
"They're all full..." Chandler was half asleep. I was silent the rest of the trip, letting him give in to his fatigue.  
  
  
***~***  
  
The hospital called, and said I was a match. It was up to me whether or not I wanted to donate. The truth of the matter is, I only volunteered to get tested because everyone else was going to. I had no intention of donating. The whole process is much, much worse for the donor than it is for the recipient. I wasn't so sure I wanted to risk my life for a guy who would most likely OD again when things went sour with Monica. He did this to himself...he should have to live...and die with the consequences...right. Uh, I feel so guilty for feeling this way. But there is a part of me that hates him for doing this to us. For hurting all of us...but mostly for hurting Monica, over and over again. Part of me wished he would just...die. I know that I can't do this. I know that I can't give Chandler a kidney. And I know that, if everyone finds out, they will hate me for it.  
  
I don't think I can risk my life for him.  
  
  
  
  
  
"With a Little Help from My Friends"   
(McCartney/Lennon)  
  
What would you think if I sang out of tune,  
would you stand up and walk out on me?  
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,  
and I'll try not to sing out of key.  
  
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends.  
  
What do I do when my love is away?  
(Does it worry you to be alone?)  
How do I feel by the end of the day?  
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)  
  
No, I get by with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends.  
  
Do you need anybody?  
I need somebody to love.  
Could it be anybody?  
I want somebody to love.  
  
Would you believe in a love at first sight?  
Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time.  
What do you see when you turn out the light?  
I can't tell you but I know it's mine.  
  
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends.  
  
Do you need anybody?  
I just need someone to love.  
Could it be anybody?  
I want somebody to love.  
  
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.  
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends.  
...with a little help from my friends. 


	8. Trouble

~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Eight*  
"Trouble"  
  
I must have fallen asleep on the sofa, because the phone woke me up. I shook out the cobwebs, and picked up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, I'm looking for Joey Tribianni," said the voice on the other end.  
  
"Yeah, uh, speaking."  
  
"Hi, Joey, this is Marianne, from the clinic. I wanted to talk to you about your test results. Apparently, there was some sort of mix up with your results, and it turns out that you were the one that matched Chandler's type."  
  
"I'm a match?! Whoa, wait, what do you mean by mix-up."  
  
"Oh, don't worry, we've already spoken to your friend Ross. We called him a few days ago and told him he was a match. I just talked to him, and told him it was actually you, not him."  
  
"Oh. Okay, well, what do we do now?"  
  
"Well, we need to run a few more tests, to ensure that this is the best option for Chandler. Then you and Chandler will need to speak with a specialist, and a counselor."  
  
"A counselor? Like, like a shrink?"  
  
"Kind of. This type of surgery can be just as emotionally trying as it can be physically. We want you both to understand every aspect of what is going to happen."  
  
"I just wanna help my friend."  
  
"I know. Can you come into the clinic on Monday, so we can start the process?"  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
I wrote down the information, then set out to find Ross. He had some serious explaining to do.  
  
***~***  
  
I hesitated, before knocking on Monica's door. I was between sessions, and finally felt good enough to do this. But what was I doing? What did I want? What did she want? There was really only one way to find out. I knocked.  
  
"Hi," she said. She looked tired. And sad. I couldn't help but feel responsible for that.  
  
"Hi," was all I could think to say. We settled on her sofa, and for a long, heavy moment, no one spoke.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Alright. Mostly...worn out," I chuckled at the ridiculousness of the entire scenario.  
  
"When is your next session?"  
  
"Day after tomorrow. So, tomorrow I'll be totally useless." It was true. The dialysis had become, in it's own way, my new drug. My kidneys really weren't doing much at all, so by the time I was ready for another round, I was so weak I could barely move. It did remind me of the days when I was so messed up that I couldn't function without...pharmaceutical assistance.  
  
"Is Phoebe taking you?"  
  
"Um, I don't think so. She has to work. I'll just take a cab...it's no big deal."  
  
"Well, my Dad gave me his Porsche. I can take you."  
  
"Your Dad gave you his Porsche? Why? Did he buy a Ferrarri?"  
  
"No...it's a long story. Let's just say he owed me one."  
  
"I see. Well, if that's the way it works, I think I probably owe you a house...or two."  
  
"You don't owe me anything," Monica's voice was sad, and quiet.  
  
"I feel like I do. Mon, I know you think that we should try again, but--"  
  
"If you don't want to Chandler, I'm not going to pressure you." She was breaking my heart.  
  
"It's not that I don't want to, Mon...I do. I do love you. But I've already caused you so much trouble...and look what happened last time we..."  
  
"Neither of us handled it well last time. But we've both learned, haven't we?"  
  
"Mon, it's not just that. What if I don't find a donor in time? What if--"  
  
"That doesn't matter anymore. We'll be okay, this time. This time, we'll do better."  
  
I wanted to believe her. I really did. I looked into her eyes, and was shocked to see how much hope and love they held. But deep down, I wasn't so sure. Something inside was telling me that my luck was running very thin...and that the end was very near.  
  
***~***  
  
I opened the door, and let Joey in. I had a feeling that he must have talked to the clinic, because he looked pissed. I watched him as he stood in front of me, gathering his thoughts. He finally sighed, and looked at me sadly.  
  
"You weren't going to donate, were you?"  
  
"Joey, I--"  
  
"I know, Ross. He pisses me off too. He threw away so much...but he is still my best friend, and I can not just let him die, knowing that there is something I could have done to save him. I'm not mad...I'm sad. Sad that you don't feel the same way."  
  
"Joey, what if you do this, and he dies anyway? Or he gets back on drugs?"  
  
"I'll still know in my heart that I did everything I could. Is that why you weren't gonna do it? Because you think he is gonna die?"  
  
"I...you have to understand, Joe. He abandoned my sister. And then I let him come back into her life, and he hurt her again. I want to by sympathetic to my friend...but he has just hurt Monica one too many times."  
  
"She has forgiven him, Ross. She still wants him in her life."  
  
"Well, then she's a fool. She's in love with him, and she can't see that nothing is gonna change. He's not the same person he was three years ago, Joey. He's a junkie...he's..."  
  
"He's your friend. And he has a problem. And don't even believe for a second that he would have had to think twice if it would have been you."  
  
"I know. That's what's killing me the most."  
  
"I'm going to donate. And I won't tell the others about all of this...on one condition."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You have to give Chandler the benefit of the doubt. And let him and your sister try to find happiness."  
  
As much as I hated it, and with all the doubts that filled my head, I reluctently agreed to the deal. I really didn't want the others knowing about this...it wasn't like I was proud of it. Joey left to tell Chandler and Monica the good news. That he was going to give Chandler a second chance.  
  
Something I was not willing, and now, not able to do. And I've never felt so guilty in my life.  
  
***~***  
  
I was dozing off, with an exhausted Monica in my arms. I knew that it was a bad idea to try again, but I just couldn't say no. I loved her so much. I felt like I was drowning, and Monica was the only thing keeping me from sinking. In my heart, I knew that my time with Monica was coming to a close, and that I would not get another chance. So I decided to hang on to every precious moment I could take, and cherish it, in my heart, until my last day on Earth. I was almost asleep when Joey came flying into the apartment.  
  
"Chandler! I've got great news!"  
  
I opened my eyes, and Monica stirred, and shot Joey a dirty look.  
  
"I'm a match!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm a match! I'm giving you a kidney!"  
  
My heart dropped. This was not what I wanted. As much as I wanted to live, I didn't want any of my friends to match.   
  
"Joey, are you sure about this? Because I don't think--"  
  
"I know you don't want me to do it, Chandler, but it's my choice, and I am choosing to help you. You don't have a choice!"  
  
"Joey, just stop and think for a minute, okay? The surgery is going to be rough, and risky. You're gonna have a big scar, and that can't be good for your acting career--"  
  
"Nice try, Chandler. I've thought about all of that okay? I'm not worried about any of it. I just want you to get better."  
  
"Joe--"  
  
"I'm doing it. You are getting a second chance here. Do not forget that, okay?"  
  
I looked at Joey, and sighed heavily. All of this trouble, all of this pain, because I was too weak to resist the temptations of pure evil. With guilt and sadness coursing through my worn veins, I reluctantly agreed.  
  
***  
  
~Seven months later~  
  
I am sitting in my doctor's office, waiting for the results of my blood test. It's been a long, painful seven months. Joey made it through the surgery without a hitch, but he was in pain for a long time afterward. I found that helping Joey, and rebuilding my relationship with Monica and the others helped keep my life in perspective. I didn't think it was possible to love Monica any more than I already did, but I wake up every day, and I can't believe that she has stuck by me through all of this. And I love her more than anything. And I have made a vow, that I will never hurt her again. That's my goal.  
  
Ross' strange behavior has begun to subside. No one could figure out why he was being so weird, but Rachel thought that maybe it was because Joey got to donate and he didn't. I don't think that's it, though...I wish I could talk to him like I used to. I'm afraid that nothing will ever be the same between us.  
  
The doctor comes in, and I can see from his expression that what he is about to tell me will change everything I've been thinking about. It will change my perspective, it will alter my life, and it will make it impossible for me not to hurt Monica again.  
  
"Chandler, your body is rejecting the kidney."  
  
Darkness falls.  
  
  
Trouble  
(Coldplay)  
Oh no, I see,  
A spider web is tangled up with me,  
And I lost my head,  
The thought of all the stupid things I said,  
Oh no what's this?  
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,  
So I turned to run,  
The thought of all the stupid things I've done,  
  
I never meant to cause you trouble,  
And I never meant to do you wrong,  
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,  
Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.  
  
Oh no I see,  
A spider web and it's me in the middle,  
So I twist and turn,  
Here I am in my little bubble,  
  
Singing, I never meant to cause you trouble,  
I never meant to do you wrong,  
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,  
Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.  
  
They spun a web for me,  
They spun a web for me,  
They spun a web for me.  
  
AN: Hmm. Got some interesting reviews for the last one...always appreciated. But...While I have not done extensive research on kidney transplants, my uncle just had one, and my Dad tested to be a donor, and we all learned a lot through that. Also, my cousin got one...it's rejecting...so he needs another one. To clarify one fact...it IS harder on the recipient after the surgery...the surgery itself is much riskier on the donor. Maybe I didn't write it out very clearly, sorry bout that. My writing skills definitely need work in that area, LOL. 


	9. Tears in Heaven

~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Ten*  
"Tears In Heaven"  
  
I wish I could tell you that I had full confidence in my doctors, and that I truly believed that I would find another kidney. But the truth of the matter is, the news that my body was rejecting Joey's kidney sucked every once of hope and confidence that I had left. I felt like I had failed somehow, and that, even though I had no control over whether or not my body would accept the kidney, the rejection was a kind of sign...a sign that I was not meant to be here.  
  
I spent the next week and a half getting my affairs in order. I had very little inheritance money left, but what I did have I willed to Joey and Monica. I gave Ugly Naked Guy notice, and I bought a plane ticket. I knew where I needed to go, and I knew that I had only one chance to change my destiny.  
  
The problem was, I was sure I would not be able to do it.  
  
***~***  
  
Chandler has been unusually distant lately. He refuses to talk to me, and it is starting to scare me. And he hasn't been looking well. He sometimes looks as though he is going to collapse, he looks so sickly. I urged him to go back to his doctor, but he keeps insisting that everything is fine, and maybe he is pushing himself too hard.  
  
He disappears, for hours at a time, and never says where he's going, or when he'll be back. He's very sensitive, when it comes to physical contact, and we haven't been intimate in over a week.  
  
Something is wrong. I can feel it.  
  
***~***  
  
I spent the entire day searching, and was shocked when I actually found what I was looking for. The things you think you lose always turn up in the strangest places...but always when you need them most.  
  
I told Monica I was leaving. I had to tell her to her face, even if my reasons for leaving her are a lie. She insisted that children were not a priority for her anymore, but I argued otherwise.  
  
"Monica, you have wanted children for as long as I have known you. I am physically...incapable now, and no one in their right mind is going to let me adopt a child. It's best if you marry someone who can give you everything you want. You deserve someone who will give you the world, not take it away from you."  
  
"But I love you."  
  
"I love you too. That's why I am walking away. It's better this way, Mon. For everyone."  
  
I left a few hours ago. I didn't tell the others, but I left all of them letters. I knew that they would gang upon me, and try to get the truth out of me. I couldn't tell them I was dying, not after everything I've put them through. Especially Joey.  
I left him with a profuse apology, and the only thing that I could think would let him know that, deep down, I've always cared.  
  
***~***  
  
I came home from an audition, and found Chandler's letter. It was sitting underneath a video cassette. I read the note first.  
  
Joey~  
  
I'm sorry for leaving after all you've done for me. You have no idea how grateful I am to you. I will never be able to repay you for all you've done. Please understand, that I can't stay in New York, but that it has nothing to do with you.  
  
Best buds, today and forever-  
  
~Chandler  
  
He left. Again. I hate him, so much for doing this. But, remarkably, I also understand. I slip the tape into the VCR. The screen lights up, and I see Chandler, standing in the living room where I now stand alone. It is the Chandler I know, the one from several years ago, before the drugs. He is smiling, and bouncing, the way he does when he gets excited about something. He looks directly into the camera, and speaks:  
  
"Okay, December 28, 1997. The duck has just crapped in Joey's favourite pair of shoes, and I captured it on tape. And since this is the end of the tape, that wraps up...chick and duck highlights, '97, baybee!"  
  
I sink into my chair, my heart heavy with grief. I may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I know this much to be true;  
  
Chandler is dying.  
  
  
Tears In Heaven  
(Eric Clapton and Will Jennings)  
  
Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?  
I must be strong and carry on,  
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.  
  
Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?  
Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?  
I'll find my way through night and day,  
'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven.  
  
Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees.  
Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please.  
  
Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,  
And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven.  
  
Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?  
I must be strong and carry on,  
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven  
  
AN: This chapter is short, but it is setting up the conclusion~coming soon! 


	10. If You're Gone

AN: mel--i always enjoy reviewers who sing...esp the song you sang...grrr....LOL.  
  
  
~Across The Universe~  
  
*Chapter Ten*  
"If You're Gone"  
  
I take a seat near the back of the room, my heart pounding furiously. I am still unsure about my decision to do this, and it takes every ounce of humility I have to keep me in my seat. I can feel sweat forming on my brow, and I wonder what is going to happen, what he will say, and what his reaction will be.  
  
We haven't talked for years. It's been mostly my decision not to see him, more out of stubborness than anything else. But the past few months have put my life into perspective, and I have begun to realize that my childhood was terrific, compared to what I have managed to do to my adulthood over the past few years.  
  
The lights go down, the curtain rises, and Helena Handbasket takes the stage. And the doubts come flooding back.  
  
  
***~***  
  
I think I am in shock. I am just...absolutely numb. I can't believe Chandler left me. What an asshole. I should have seen this coming, but I was just too stubborn. I truly believed that my love for him was strong enough.  
  
I was a fool.  
  
Joey just walked in...and he looks...like he's going to throw up on me. He tosses a videotape in my direction, and sinks into the sofa.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"Chandler's dying. That's why he left."  
  
"What?" My heart is pounding a million miles a minute.  
  
"He left, because he didn't want us to...see him...I guess."  
  
"Joey, what's on the tape?" My hands are shaking, and I feel like I'm going to throw up too.  
  
"It's the missing tape. The one with the plastic case..." Suddenly it dawned on me. Everything Joey was saying.  
  
"He's not coming back," It finally sunk in. From the moment Chandler told me he was leaving again, I filled myself with the blind faith that he would change his mind, and come home. But if he knows he's going to die...where would he go? My brain was spinning, and my heart was filling with grief.  
  
I give in to the grief, but in my mind I reminded myself that the man I knew died four years ago.  
  
***~***  
  
He/she was making his/her way backstage, when I finally got up the nerve to approach him/her.  
  
"Dad."  
  
He/she whipped around suddenly, and, upon seeing me for the first time, the person that was my father shone through the layers of make up and sequins. I saw concern and confusion cross his face, and I was suddenly very conscious of the severity of my current condition.  
  
"Chandler?"  
  
"Hi," Run, Chandler, run...this is a horrible idea.  
  
"My God, son...what happened to you?"  
  
"I, uh...I need to talk to you."  
  
***~***  
  
To be perfectly honest, I didn't even recognize him at first. But when I finally did, my heart broke. He was rail thin, and his face was a ghastly white. It was a warm Las Vegas day, and yet he was wearing a sweater. I wanted to grab him and shake him, and ask him what the hell he had done to himself. But his eyes...his eyes were so bleak. They no longer held the passion, the spirit of the boy I'd known. He was a shell of a man, battered and broken, and looking ten years older than his actual age. What was he, thirty? And his hair was thin and greying. What had happened to my son?  
  
We sat down at a small bar in the far corner of the casino where I worked. He told me everything. He told me about the day he left his girlfriend, the years he spent lost, and on drugs, and his slow, painful recovery. He told me about his kidneys, and the transplant. And he told me that he was dying, that the kidney his friend had given him was failing.  
  
I sat, for a long time, absorbing all he had told me. I asked him why he was here, and he told me that he needed to reconcile his feelings for me before he died. I couldn't believe he was just going to give up. This was not the Chandler I knew. Sighing heavily, I took my son's hand, and looked into his eyes.  
  
"Chandler, never give up hope. Even when it seems like you have nothing left...there's always hope."  
  
He nodded, and let go of my hand, before breaking down.  
  
***~***  
  
I wanted to believe him. More than anything. But I just couldn't. I was so....tired. And there didn't seem to be any point. It was hopeless, and I knew it. I'd thrown my life away, I'd sold my soul, and now I'd pay the ultimate price.  
Hope...was a word I no longer recognized.  
  
***~***  
  
The call came early on a Sunday morning. Chandler had been gone for two months. To say that the following call took me by surprise would be the world's biggest understatement.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, um, I'm looking for Monica Geller?"  
  
"This is Monica."  
  
"Monica, this is...this is Charles Bing...Chandler's father."  
  
I was silent. Stunned and silent. Charles must have sensed my shock, because he continued talking.  
  
"Chandler came here, a couple of months ago. The kidney your friend had given him was failing."  
  
"I know." I managed to whisper, our assumptions that he was, in fact dying now confirmed.  
  
"Can you come to Las Vegas?" That question threw me. But when I realized that Charles was probably taking care of the funeral arrangements, I agreed, without even asking him why we were coming out.  
  
"We'll be on the next flight."  
  
**  
  
We arrived in Las Vegas the next morning. All of us, even Ross, who had turned into a raging loon after Chandler's last departure, put up no fight. When we'd finally explained to Ross why Chandler had left, it seemed to calm him a bit. But deep down, I was afraid Ross would never forgive Chandler, dead or alive.  
  
We took a taxi to a large house on the outskirts of the city. It sat on a sprawling peice of land, far from other homes in the area. The stucco walls and spanish tiled roof fit the desert surroundings perfectly. I wasn't even inside, and yet I felt at home.  
  
Chandler's father opened the door, and ushered us into the house, offering us lemonade, and insisting that we stay with him. I was amazed at how feminine he really did look. While he was not dressed in full drag, he was wearing make up and a very nice wig. I also noted that he seemed to be having some trouble walking, which accounted for the fact that he was not wearing heels. But the only thing that really struck me as odd was that he seemed...happy. He was not acting like someone who had just lost his only son.  
  
It was then that Charles led us to the back of the house, and out to a small sunroom that overlooked the sprawling desert. I stood in the doorway, stunned, as my eyes fell onto the last person I had expected to see.  
  
Chandler was laying in a large chair, his eyes closed peacefully, his breathing steady. He was still thin, but he had a bit more colour. Several soft rays of sunlight illuminated his face, making him appear almost...angelic. He would laugh at that notion. There were audible gasps from the others, causing Chandler to stir. He opened his eyes, and looked up at what was quite obviously, as much of a surprise to him as it was to us.  
  
***~***  
  
When I opened my eyes, I was sure I was dreaming. My friends...all of them, were standing over me, gaping at me like I was on display. I sat up slowly, and watched as my father ushered my friends into the room, and sat them down. He then silently left, sliding the door closed on his way out. I shot him a grateful glance. Many a night I had talked to him about the life I'd left behind. While my father's kidney may have only added a year or two onto my life, I often wondered if leaving the people I loved, when I truly needed them was a wise decision, and I spent much time debating about spending those few prcious years with my extended family. While I wanted to call them, I knew that this time, I may have gone too far, and that they most likely hated my guts.  
  
So, I was more than shocked to see that they had come to see me.  
  
***  
  
We talked. For hours we talked. Tears and laughter filled the room, as the sun melted into the horizon, and the desert sky lit up with millions of stars...a sky that no one in New York City could have even imagined to be real. If Joey's kidney had made me see that my friends were uncommonly loyal, their arrival in the wake of my new lease on life made me see that there was only one place I belonged, in sickness and in health, for the rest of my life--however long that was.  
  
It was time for me to go home.  
  
As the night wore on, my jet-lagged 'family' began to trickle off to bed, with the promise of a better day in the immediate future. Rachel was first, followed closely by Ross, who insisted on hugging me so hard, I thought he was trying to break me in half. Joey and Phoebe soon called it a night, but Monica stayed. I was happy she did, because I wasn't quite ready to say good night.   
  
When Monica and I first started going out, many years ago, we had The Night. You know The Night. You stay up all night, and talk about everything from the economy to the latest neighborhood gossip. For me and Monica, that night happened about three weeks after we returned from London. It wasn't planned (they rarely are), it just sort of...happened. It was one of the best nights of my life. It was then that I knew, that Monica was The One.  
  
On this night, thousands of miles from the place where we first gave each other our hearts, we stared out into the desert, now seemingly empty in the black of night, and said nothing. It was a silent vow, and a solemn promise that we would always be there for each other, no matter what. After several silent minutes, Monica looked at me, her eyes calm, and her voice steady.  
  
"When you left, you said that it was because you couldn't give me what I wanted most."  
  
"I know, and I'm sorry. But it is true, Monica. You can't have children with me, and you won't be able to adopt if you stay with me."  
  
"I talked to Rachel about it, after you left. She says that there is another option. She is willing to help us out, Chandler, and so is Phoebe. But that's not the point. The point is, children or no, I want you in my life. I need you in my life. But if you walk away again..."  
  
"I won't walk away."  
  
"If you do...I will not follow."  
  
"I know. All I can tell you, Mon, is that I'm not scared anymore. I mean, I am, a little scared, about moving back to New York, the place where everything changed. But if I only have a few months left...I want them to be with you."  
  
Monica smiled, and took my hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and looked back out over the desert sky.  
  
I followed her gaze, and finally found the one thing I'd been seeking all along.  
  
Inner peace.  
  
  
***~***  
  
The kidney took. And Chandler was able to live a long, and relatively productive life. With our friend's help, we were able to raise two children, a boy and a girl, together (Chandler was right, the drugs had made him sterile) . We never officially married. But in our hearts, we were always bound to each other. Our children, Sam and Juliana, are now nearly adults, and they were two of the calmest teenagers I'd ever met. Chandler sat them both down, at a relatively young age, and told them His Story. Neither child has been tempted to touch so much as a drink, even now.  
  
Chandler was only 54 when he died. By normal standards, that is young, but for a person that has been through what he has, that is a miracle. I felt blessed for every moment I had with him. He was, for all intents and purposes, my soulmate.  
  
Today is the anniversary of the day that Chandler came home for good. For us, it was like an anniversary, so I stand over his grave now, my soul content in the knowledge that I will see him again, and that he is now home.  
  
And I know that he is smiling.  
  
  
  
if you're gone   
(matchbox twenty)  
  
I think I've already lost you   
I think you're already gone.  
I think I'm finally scared now  
You think I'm weak - But I think you're wrong  
I think you're already leaving  
Feels like your hand is on the door  
I thought this place was an empire  
But now I'm relaxed - I can't be sure  
  
I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - I think too much  
I know this is wrong it's a problem I'm dealing  
  
If you're gone - maybe it's time to go home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
Cuz there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you  
  
I bet you're hard to get over  
I bet the room just won't shine  
I bet my hands I can stay here  
I bet you need - more than you mind  
  
I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - that I know too much  
I can't relate and that's a problem   
I'm feeling  
  
If you're gone - maybe it's time to go home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
cuz there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you  
  
I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - do I talk too much  
I know it's wrong it's a problem I'm dealing   
  
  
  
AN: dedicated to S. 


End file.
